


Summer

by outruntheavalanche



Series: The Four Seasons [2]
Category: Flowers in the Attic - V. C. Andrews, Original Work
Genre: Adults Behaving Irresponsibly, Class Differences, Family Secrets, Gen, Gothic Lite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-01
Updated: 2007-01-01
Packaged: 2019-06-09 11:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15266358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/pseuds/outruntheavalanche
Summary: Summer Wallace's ambitious Momma longs to become the next big thing in country music. Momma uproots her two young, impressionable daughters to follow her dream of becoming famous, and her hopes of providing her daughters with a better life. But is the price of her young girls' innocence worth it?





	1. Prologue: A Deadly Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally had four chapters of  _Summer_  before the Great Computer Crash of Aught-Two swallowed almost every fic of mine into the Black Hole of Ficcage.
> 
> This is an original story written in the style of V.C. Andrews, sticking to the "formula" (that the ghostwriter later abandoned).

All people have secrets, I suppose.

Some are worse than others, however, and my secret is one of those kinds.

The kind, that if you keep it too long, begins to grow and grow, until it's larger than  _you_  are, and you can no longer control it, like Frankenstein's monster.

The kind of secret that is like a wildfire, devouring anything and anyone in its path.

The secret  _I_  was made to keep very nearly destroyed  _me_  in the process, as well as my beloved Momma, and my darling little sister Jewel.

***

Although our lives were not perfect by any means, we certainly were quite lucky with the lives God has chosen to provide to us. Jewel and I had a loving momma who would move Heaven and Earth for us, and dear grandparents who doted on us to no end.

Even though we weren't rich, we were still happy. All the money in the world wouldn't have made us any happier, I thought, but it turned out Momma didn't feel the same as I.

Momma had always possessed these crazy, far out dreams she said being married to my father never let her express. When Daddy moved away when Jewel and I were just toddlers, Momma decided she was going to become a country singer, and proved a better life for the three of us.

I, being the precocious child I was, told Momma that we didn't need to be famous. We were happy as clams living in Lynchburg, Virginia with Grandma and Granddad.

But Momma was blinded by the promise of success in Nashville, and set out to make her dreams of fame and fortune come true.

Somewhere along the line, she met Nick Olsson, a scout with a talent agency in her old childhood town of Wedgewood, Virginia. Nick promised Momma she would become the best country singer under his tutelage, and so here we were.

Packing our bags, once again, to chase another one of Momma's pipe dreams.

I didn't have the greatest feeling about this Nick Olsson, but Momma would hear none of that. She was certain Nick was the answer to her prayers of loneliness and her driving desire to become famous.

If only she knew what the cost would be, in the end.

If only she knew.

If she had known the cost that the Reaper would eventually come to collect from us, she would never have gone to Wedgewood in the first place.


	2. On the Road Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer Wallace, 15, finds her live overturned and uprooted when her ambitious Momma decides to drag the family from their small town of Lynchburg all the way to Wedgewood, Virigina, in the hopes of making it big as a country music star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While _Spring_ , _Summer_ 's companion fic, was a bit over-the-top and a parody, _Summer_ will be a more serious endeavor.

"Summer, do you have all your things packed," Momma asked, flipping up her sunglasses and peering into the rearview mirror of the station wagon, brushing her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her tanned, freckled shoulders. She dabbed at her frosted lipstick with the corner of her Kleenex, before stuffing it into the glove compartment and slamming it shut.

Momma was dressed in a white, strapless summer dress, and had on dainty white lace gloves, as if she were going to have tea with the Queen of England or something. I wondered why she was so dressed up. All we were doing was driving back to Wedgewood. It wasn't like she was meeting the Queen or anything.

"Yes, Momma," I replied, sighing and rolling my eyes heaven-ward. "I don't see why we have to move all the way back to Wedgewood to start a new life. Can't we just start a new one here, in Lynchburg?" I folded my arms across my chest and stared out the window.

"Honey, you'll like Wedgewood," she sang, in that sing-songy tone she always used whenever she wanted to win over me or my little sister, Jewel. "It's such a nice, lovely town. You'll just love it as much as I did when I was your age."

"Hmph, if you loved it so much, why'd you move away in the first place?" eleven-year-old Jewel complained, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout. She mimicked me, folding her skinny little arms across her chest as well.

Momma frowned in the rearview mirror. "Now Jewel Elisabeth, don't you take that tone with me," she scolded, turning the key in the ignition of the old Ford. "I promise this is the last time, girls."

"That's what you said when you brought us to Lynchburg," I reminded her, as she pulled out of the driveway. "Coming to Lynchburg didn't get you any more famous than you were before."

Jewel turned in her seat and began to wave at nothing in particular. " 'Bye Sycamore Lane! 'Bye Lynchburg!" she sang, waving her skinny little arms. "We're on the road again!"

I rolled my eyes at her newfound enthusiasm. "You weren't this happy to move ten minutes ago," I scoffed.

"Well, I'm sorry for you, Summer. I like new adventures," Jewel sniffed, arrogantly, turning her nose up in the air at me. She tugged on the chunky plastic bracelet circling her wrist, and kicked up her heels.

Momma smiled at me from the rearview mirror again. "This is gonna be fun, Summer! You'll see."

I sighed and pulled my Gameboy out of my backpack. "Yeah, whatever you say, Momma."

***

About an hour out of Lynchburg, Jewel begain to whine and complain about something; it wasn't a surprise. That spoiled little monster whined and complained about nearly everything.

I sighed. "Jewel, what is it  _now_? Did we leave Abigail Marie at home?" I sneered. Abigail Marie was Jewel's prized baby doll, and whenever I was annoyed with her, I picked on her for being eleven and still having a baby doll.

"No! I know I packed Abigail Marie! I have an upset tummy!" she cried, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Maybe you shouldn't have had that chocolate bar for lunch then," I retorted, irritably.

Momma let out an unhappy sigh. "Girls, please," she scolded, clutching the steering wheel to the point that her knuckles were now white. "I don't want to have to pull over and whup you both."

"Momma, I don't feel well!" Jewel said. "I think I'm gonna throw up!"

Momma sighed, pulling the station wagon to a stop along the shoulder of the road, coughing up thick clouds of dust. She got out of the driver's side seat and opened Jewel's door. "All right now, Jewel."

Jewel climbed out of her seat and lurched forward, clutching her stomach. She began to heave violently, and Momma brushed back her blonde hair from her face. "I don't feel good," she moaned, as Momma brushed at her face with a napkin she'd pulled from her purse.

"It'll be all right, Jewel. We're almost there," Momma said, running her fingers through Jewel's tangled blonde hair.

When Jewel was finished throwing up, Momma strapped her back in and got back behind the driver's wheel.

"It's going to be a while 'til we get there," she said, turning back to look at me, offering me an almost apologetic smile, "so you might as well catch up on your shut-eye."

I obliged Momma, closing my eyes, losing myself in an uneasy, dreamless sleep.

***

When I finally awoke, we had pulled in front of a low, dark brick building with a blinking neon sign in front of it, declaring the seedy place to be  _Sav-Lots Motels_. Momma wasn't in the front seat, and Jewel wasn't sitting in back with me, so I unbuckled myself and went in search for my mother and sister.

Momma was at the front desk, holding on to Jewel's hand, talking to a receptionist for the motels. "The name is Rachael Wallace," Momma said slowly, one hand resting on the chipped Formica counter, almost losing her thick drawl in the process. "Actually, the rooms are probably under Olsson, Nick Olsson."

Jewel's head lolled sleepily to one side, and she slurped on her thumb like a small child. "Momma, who's Nick Olsson?" Jewel asked.

Momma looked down at Jewel, and then glanced at me before responding. "Nick is the answer to all our prayers, girls," she said, smiling. "Nick is the man who's gonna put your Momma on the map."

"What?" I asked, stretching out my arms and legs, still foggy from my long nap. "What are you talking about?"

Momma tapped her long, French-manicured nails on the counter top. "Nick Olsson is a scout for a record label," Momma explained, barely able to conceal the child-like enthusiasm in her voice. "Nick is going to sign me to a record deal, Summer. Nick Olsson is going to make us a very happy family."

The way Momma was gushing on and on about this Olsson fellow made me feel a bit uncomfortable. "Momma, are you . . .  _involved_  with Nick?" I asked, lowering my voice to a hiss, to keep from disturbing Jewel.

Momma averted her gaze to the fluorescent lights flicking on and off above us, and the chipped ceiling tiles. "Nick and I are very close, if that's what you mean."

"You know that's not what I mean," I scoffed. "Are you and Nick having an affair?"

Momma pretended to look shocked, as the receptionist took her credit card to charge the motel rooms. "Summer Cassidy Wallace! Such language!" she scolded, picking up Jewel and carrying her to a row of battered old tweed couches. "I am most certainly  _not_  having an affair with Nick Olsson." She set Jewel down on the couch and sat beside her, letting out her breath in a heavy, belabored huff. "Nick and I are engaged."

" _What_?" I cried out in shock, startling Jewel awake. "You're  _engaged_?"

"Hush now. Keep your voice down," Momma sighed, running her fingers through Jewel's entangled blonde hair. "Nick and I are indeed engaged to be married. He proposed to me two months ago."

"I didn't even know you were seeing him!" I gasped.

"Nick and I have been involved - off and on - for a year now," she said. "Do you remember when I went back to Wedgewood for your aunt Billie Jean's fiftieth birthday party?" When I nodded, Momma continued. "Well, Nick and your uncle Stu are friends, and Aunt Billie Jean mentioned that I was an aspiring country singer. Nick demanded that we be introduced, and the rest - as they say - is history." Momma flushed a deep pink, and removed her lace gloves to reveal a large diamond engagement ring.

The ring compromised of a thin gold band and the largest, gaudiest pink diamond I'd ever been privvy to seeing. It surely had to have put Jennifer Lopez's engagement ring to shame.

"How come you never told me or Jewel about Nick?" I asked, examining the engagement ring with a jeweler's scrutiny.

"I wanted to wait until it was certain we would be marrying," Momma explained. "You see, Nick has an ex-wife who is very possessive and refuses to let go of him. Nick had to make sure she wouldn't cause any more trouble." Momma paused before continuing. "Nick does have a son a little older than you, named Josh. You two might get along."

I sighed, slumping back against the wall. "This is all too much to take in in one night," I sighed. "I'm so tired."

"Don't worry, honey. Tomorrow, we set out for Nick's home . . . Aren't you so excited," she asked, beaming. "You'll finally meet the man who is going to make all of our dreams come true."

As I sat there, drifting off to Neverland, I thought,  _You mean, the man who is going to make all of_ your  _dreams come true, Momma, not mine . . . I could have had all my dreams come true in Lynchburg._

Momma held out her arms to me and I crawled into the empty spot next to her on the couch, and rested my head in her lap like how I used to when I was Jewel's age. Momma stroked my hair, trailing her fingers down the nape of my neck. "It'll be all right, Summer," she murmured, tucking away the stray hairs at the back of my neck. "You'll see. We'll be just fine. Nick's a good man, and he's gonna take real good care of us."

I sighed and closed my eyes. "I hope you're right, Momma. I hope you're right."


	3. Momma's New Beau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer and Jewel finally meet the man their momma is enamoured with. Nick seems like a great man, but is there more to him than meets the eye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, people are reading! This makes me happy. I appreciate the suggestions and am working on incorporating them into upcoming chapters. Thanks for reading!

The next morning, we left the small, crummy motel and headed out for Nick Olsson's place in Wedgewood.

According to Momma, Nick's place had thirteen bedrooms and four bathrooms, and a jacuzzi. It even had a sauna, she had bragged to us, on the ride over, and a spa.

Nick was going to make all of our dreams come true, Momma insisted.

"Well, if he's making you this happy," I told her, "I'll survive. All I want is for you to be happy, Momma."

Nick's home was nearly three times the size of the house we used to live in, in Atlanta, before we moved to Virginia. Nick's place was built in the style of an old Southern plantation home, with a sprawling yard, and a servants' quarters almost as big as our old trailer home in Lynchburg tacked on to the side of the main house.

Nick's mansion was like straight out of a fairy tale.

The front door opened and a tall, thin man stepped out onto the porch, dressed in a black Oxford shirt and neatly pressed khakis. He had blond hair that dusted the top of his shirt collar. He didn't exactly look like a country music producer to me.

Momma jumped out of the driver's seat and ran for Nick, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh Nick, I'm so happy to see you," she said, burying her face into the crook where his collarbone met his shoulder.

Nick patted a hand down her blonde hair and glanced over her shoulder, to Jewel and me. "Is that Summer and Jewel, Rachael?" he asked, giving Momma a kiss on the cheek.

"Yep, those are the girls." Momma stepped away from Nick, bearing a smile so big, I thought maybe it would crack her face in two it was so wide. "Come on, girls, say hello to Nick."

Jewel and I approached our Momma's new beau cautiously.

"Hey there, Jewel," he drawled, reaching out and giving Jewel's braid a gentle tug. "Hello, Summer." Nick moved to hug me, and I stiffened in his arms, not used to having any man hug me, not even my own father.

"Go on, hon, it's all right. Nick's going to be your stepfather, he won't hurt you," Momma teased, gently, when I tensed up. "They're not used to men. Their father left us when the girls were just toddlers."

Nick nodded, moving away from me. "I see. It's all right, girls. In no time, your momma and me will be married and we'll be a real family."

As Nick led Momma to the house, holding on to her elbow, Jewel reached out and tugged on the hem of my t-shirt.

"I don't like him," she whispered to me, as we followed Momma and Nick. "He wears too much cologne. Daddy never wore cologne."

"You don't remember Daddy," I scolded.

"I  _do_  remember Daddy," she protested, petulantly, jutting out her bottom lip as she tended to do when she didn't get her way. "I remember him!"

"He left when you were just three, Jewel. You were too young to remember him," I reminded her, as we entered Nick's mansion. " _I_  don't even remember him that much, and I'm four years older than you."

Jewel sighed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her blue-jean cut off shorts. "Well, I don't like Nick. He wears too much cologne. And I don't like his accent," she pouted.

"You'll get used to him eventually," I sighed. "It'll just take a little while. He  _does_ seem like a nice guy."

Jewel continued to pout. "He's trying too hard."

"You just met him," I whispered to her, as we followed Momma and Nick to the sitting room.

Momma took a seat on a red velvet divan, beside Nick. He pulled her hand into his lap and squeezed it. An older woman, obviously Nick's maid, in a shapeless gray dress and faded white apron came out from a hidden door, bearing a tray of tea and snacks.

"This is Ms. Parker," Nick said, gesturing to the woman, "my housekeeper. She and her son, Alex, live on the property as well, in the servants' quarters." Nick turned his eyes to my sister and me and smiled. "Her boy is about your age, girls. Maybe the three of you can become good friends. He's been yearning for someone his age to play with for years now. Hasn't he, Ms. Parker?"

Ms. Parker looked at us and offered a thin smile. She must have been pretty once, but it seemed the years had not done her justice; her face was thin and pale, and her hair, dishwater blonde and drab, hung loosely at her shoulders. "Indeed, Mr. Olsson. My boy will be thrilled." She nodded to us and departed hastily.

Momma tugged on Nick's hand. "Where is the boy, Alex?" she asked, leaning into his shoulder. "I'd like for the girls to meet him. It'd be nice for them to meet a friendly new face right away."

Nick smiled at Momma, blue eyes shining and full, and I had to look away and roll my eyes at Jewel, clandestinely. She held a tiny hand to her mouth, giggling. "Well, Alex should be on the tennis courts right about - " Nick couldn't finish his sentence, for Jewel had interrupted him with joyous shrieks.

"You have a  _tennis_  court?" she cried, jumping with excitement. "I  _love_  tennis! I play!"

Nick beamed and stood up, putting a hand on Jewel's shoulder. "I'll summon Ms. Parker and she can show you girls to the courts," he said. "Ms. Parker? Could you please show the girls to the tennis courts?" he called out to the housekeeper.

Ms. Parker re-emerged from the secret door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Certainly, Mr. Olsson. Come girls," she said, gesturing to us with a dusty hand. "We can take the back way, and I can tell you all about Mr. Olsson's secrets." She cast Nick a sly smile before leading us through the secret passageway.

***

"Mr. Olsson's father came here to the States following the second World War," Ms. Parker explained, as Jewel and I followed her through the secret passageway. "Originally, the family had been from Sweden, but when the war arrived, Father Olsson - Gustaf - packed up his young bride Maria and moved to America."

"But World War II happened in the 1940s," Jewel piped up, trotting to keep up with our pace. "Nick isn't old enough to be born in the 1940s."

A cool, inexplicable draft whistled high in my ears and raised goosebumps on my arms. I shivered and curled my arms around myself in a feeble attempt to shut out the cold.

Ms. Parker smiled at Jewel. "Mr. Olsson was not born until much later," she said, warmly, and I wondered how the housekeeper knew so much about him and his family. She must have sensed my train of thought, because she added, "I have been well acquainted with the Olsson family for many years now. Ever since I was  _your_  age, Jewel."

"Wow, that must've been a real long time then, since you're older than my momma," Jewel blurted.

"Jewel Elisabeth," I cried, appalled, but Ms. Parker didn't seem offended; in fact, she seemed almost amused.

"Yes," she agreed with a slight smile, paushing before a black door. "I am quite old." She pushed the door open, and suddenly, we were standing before the grand tennis court.

A golden blond boy about Jewel's height was tossing tennis balls high into the air and whacking them with his raquet. His long blond hair flopped in his face and he paused to brush it aside, when he spotted Ms. Parker.

"Ma!" He dropped his raquet and raced over. Alex Parker came to a halt when he spotted Jewel and I. "Who are they?" he asked, twisting his face into a scowl.

Ms. Parker smiled. "Now, don't be rude, Alexander Parker." The boy just scowled at his mother, who offered us an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for my boy's rude manners."

Alex's frown deepened. "We're not their indentured servants, Ma. Quit talking to them like they're better than us," he snapped at her. He picked up his raquet and bag of tennis balls and stomped out of the court.

***

When Jewel, Ms. Parker and I got back to the sitting room, Momma and Nick pulled hastily apart. Momma reached up to dab at the corner of her mouth with her fingers, and Nick coughed into his balled up fist.

"You're back so soon." Momma straightened the front of her dress. Her chest was red and splotchy, and I had to roll my eyes. As if we couldn't tell what she and Nick had been up to. Momma slipped off her white lace gloves and patted her hand to her chest. She picked up a glass of lemonade from a tray next to the divan and sipped delicately.

"We had a nice walk. Ms. Parker told us a bit about Nick's family," I said, taking a seat by the window. Jewel crawled next to Momma on the red divan and couldn't help but yawn behind her small hands.

Momma pulled her fingers through Jewel's hair and smiled at the two of us. "Did you see the sights?" she asked, as Jewel rested her head on Momma's knee.

"We went to the tennis courts," Jewel said, closing her eyes, yawning openly now. "And we saw a boy. He was kinda rude."

Momma looked up at me, raising a blonde eyebrow in question. "A boy?" she asked.

"Ms. Parker's son," I explained, nodding to Nick's housekeeper. "Alex?"

She nodded and smiled. "He's usually a well-behaved young man," she said, clasping her hands behind her back, "but I think Alexander woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Momma, Ms. Parker and Nick all shared a laugh. I slumped in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest, as Jewel started to doze off in Momma's lap. As Momma glanced down at Jewel and pulled her pale, feathery wisps of blonde hair out of her face, I did not miss the  _look_  that passed between my new step-father and his housekeeper.

An odd feeling settled in the pit of my stomach then, but I swallowed it down with a sigh and a sip of lemonade.


	4. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer and Jewel attempt to get used to their new surroundings, and Summer tries to delve deeper into Nick's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this one still lives. Go fig.
> 
> (Not anymore. It's most likely dead.)

The next morning Momma went into town to shop for furnishings she would use to decorate the master bedroom. Nick had given her access to his credit card and told her, "Go crazy, Rachael. This drafty old place could use a woman's touch."

While Momma shopped and Nick worked in his office, Jewel and I stayed back to work on our own rooms, unpacking the scant items we'd brought with us from Lynchburg. This would be the first time Jewel and I would not share a room; in fact, my new room was nearly the size of our old trailer. I had my own bathroom, with a beautiful marble sink, and a large shower that looked big enough to hold ten people. The shower too was made of marble, and had a sliding glass door with real gold handles.

I hunched over a cardboard box of clothing, lifting out items and setting them on my bed. A tiny silver charm fell out of the pocket of one of my blouses and I stooped to pick it up.

It was a tiny silver ballet slipper; I curled my hand around it and gave a little sigh before resuming my unpacking.

"Summer, can we go to the tennis courts again?" Jewel poked her head into my room, holding a child-sized tennis racquet. "Nick gave me a tennis racquet! He says that they have teams at the middle school Momma registered me for."

"Sure, just let me finish unpacking," I said, finishing with the box of clothes and moving on to the next one. "I'm almost done."

Jewel sauntered into my room and plopped down on the bed, resting the racquet across her lap. "Do you like it here?" she asked suddenly, after a few minutes of silence.

"It's different," I said, "but not in a bad way. Nick is nice, I guess."

"He's handsome like Daddy was," Jewel said.

I pulled out a series of little porcelain figurines and unwrapped them, discarding the crumpled newspaper I'd wrapped them in. "You don't remember Daddy," I reminded her. "You just remember the pictures Momma showed you, and the stories she told."

"I  _do_  remember Daddy," Jewel insisted, and I sighed to myself. It was almost no use arguing with her. Daddy had abandoned us years ago, long before her mind was formed enough to remember such things. It just wasn't possible.

"Okay, Jewel," I said, going to set the figurines on my new dresser. "Whatever you say."

Jewel kicked her feet, knocking her heels against one of the cardboard boxes by my bed. "I dream about Daddy sometimes," she said, turning the racquet in her hands.

"Of course you do." I brushed my hands off on my shorts and turned to Jewel. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." Jewel stood, tugging her fingers at the racquet's laces. Then she paused and raised her eyes to meet mine. "Why do you think Alex Parker hates us so much?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jewel," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading out to the door.

* * *

Ms. Parker's son Alex was at the tennis court again, lobbing balls in the air and swinging his racquet at them. Jewel opened the new sports duffel Nick had bought for her and pulled out her own racquet, approaching the boy cautiously.

"Alex?" She held the racquet over her chest as I followed close behind.

Alex dropped a fuzzy yellow tennis ball and it skidded away from him. He shot both Jewel and I hard looks. "What do you want," he asked.

"I was wondering if we could play a match together." Jewel offered him a smile.

"I don't play girls," he snapped.

"I'm good," Jewel said. She paused, tucking a chunk of spun gold blonde hair behind her pierced ear. "I bet I'm better than you."

Alex narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his mouth hardening. "I don't play girls. Go bother my mother or something. I'm busy."

"Why don't you like us?" Jewel asked. "We didn't ask to move here."

"This place was my home first," Alex fired at both of us. "Nick treated my mom and me like real members of the family until he married your mother. Now we've been moved out to the servants' quarters. It's not fair." He grabbed up all the stray tennis balls and shoved them into his pockets.

"I'm sorry you and your mother had to move out of the home," I said, trying my best to be diplomatic, even though I found Alex to be quite rude and unlikable.

"I don't need your pity." Alex stormed to the chainlink fence and opened the gate, where a shiny red bicycle was waiting, latched to the fence. Alex unlocked the lock, hopped on the bike and pedaled furiously toward Nick's mansion.

Jewel turned her face up at me, her eyes heavy and sad. "I tried."

"I know you did. He's just an unhappy little boy," I said, watching after Alex as he rode off in the distance. "I'll play with you if you want."

"You don't even like tennis," Jewel pointed out.

"Well, we came all this way. We might as well have a game." I picked up Jewel's duffel and pulled out a couple tennis balls.

"You don't even have a racquet," she said.

"I'll use my hands. You'll just be gentle with me," I laughed, and Jewel smiled. I was glad to get a smile out of my poor sensitive sister.

Jewel snagged one of the tennis balls from me and we took our proper places on the court. We didn't need Alex Parker to have a fun time. As Jewel lobbed the ball high in the air and smashed it with her racquet, I made up my mind to discover why Alex Parker hated us so much.

* * *

"Momma?"

Momma was in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables that would go in the large silver pot on the stove. Water bubbled and boiled, and the enticing smells reached my nostrils. It was our first dinner as a family, in Nick's home.

"Yes, Summer?" Momma dumped the chopped vegetables in the pot and wiped her hands on her apron, raising her head and offering me a smile.

"Don't you think it's kind of strange that Ms. Parker and her son live here, with us?" I asked, leaning my elbows on the counter. "Why don't they have their own place?"

"From what I've gathered," Momma said, as she began to check on the roast in the oven, "Ms. Parker has been with Nick's family since he was very young. She and her late husband both lived here with their son, on the property."

"Alex acts like this place should be his," I muttered. "He gave Jewel and me a hard time when we came to play on the tennis court."

"He's just a young boy going through a turbulent time," Momma said. "This place really  _has_  been his stomping grounds. He was born here and grew up here, and now here's a new family coming in and taking the place over."

I sighed. "I don't know. I worry about Jewel. She wants so much for him to like her, but ñ I don't know, Momma. I just don't know."

Momma looked at me and smiled, reaching out to run a hand through my hair. "I know you worry about your sister. She'll be fine. She's a strong, feisty one."

"You're right, Momma," I said.

The kitchen doors swung open and Ms. Parker entered, with Alex at her heels. Momma greeted our step-father's maid with a kind smile, which Ms. Parker returned. Alex didn't look at either Momma or his own mother; he glared at me instead.

"Alexander and I are here to see if you need any assistance, ma'am," Ms. Parker said. It was so funny to hear a woman years and years older than Momma refer to her as  _ma'am_.

Momma must have thought it queer too, because she laughed. "Oh no, please," she said, pressing a hand over her bosom. "Call me Rachael. Rae, if you prefer. And can I call you Laura? Ms. Parker seems so — starchy."

Ms. Parker, as she'd always be Ms. Parker to  _me_ , smiled and nodded. "That works for me."

Alex scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, still lancing me with a hateful glare. "Ma, didn't you have something you wanted to show  _the ladies of the house_?" Alex said, venom dripping from his words.

"Oh, that's right!" Ms. Parker put a hand on Momma's wrist, pulling her toward the sitting room. "Nick went out this afternoon and picked out new furniture. He wishes he could show you himself, but as he's still cooped up in the studio, he handed the duties to me." Ms. Parker tugged Momma to the sitting room and I followed.

Ms. Parker threw open the doors to the sitting room, where a new oil painting was sitting over the fireplace mantle. It depicted the four of us, Nick, Momma, Jewel and I as a family, a real family. Never in my life had we ever sat down for a family portrait, not even when Daddy was around. We didn't even put out Christmas cards when Daddy was with us. Being a family wasn't something Daddy had ever troubled himself with; Momma was there to be his live-in maid, as Ms. Parker was to Nick, and Jewel and I were there as proof of his virility. We weren't much use to him otherwise.

"Oh, my," Momma exclaimed, breathless. "It's beautiful! We never posed for a painting, though. How did he -" Momma turned to Ms. Parker with questioning eyes.

"He took some photographs you'd given him and had his artist use them as reference," Ms. Parker explained. "All he's ever wanted was a family. I'm so happy he finally has one."

"He's not close with his parents? Or his brothers and sisters?" I asked. I thought the painting itself was kind of strange. I wasn't used to seeing anything like that painting outside of an antiquated, black-and-white horror movie.

Ms. Parker smiled thinly, heading with Momma to the doors. "It's a long story, Summer. I feel like such a gossip. Perhaps I should let your step-father explain it to you, when he wishes."

The three of us exited the sitting room and headed back to the kitchen. I paused briefly to look for signs of Alex Parker, but he was no where to be seen.  _Good_ , I thought to myself, meanly. But I figured I was allowed to think mean thoughts about him. He had been nothing but rude and unkind since we arrived.  _He's more than earned it_ , I thought to myself.  _Amazing that such a nasty little boy could come out of a kind, caring mother like his_.


End file.
